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Full text of "Atta girl, Smash the Glass€! Would You Believe It"

Atta girl, Smash the Glass ... Would You Believe It 



Help me I am caught 
between the soft covers 
of this silly book into which 
I've fallen but can't climb out. 

The scribe she wanted not 
just money, nor mere fame. 
She wanted to put the world 
to tear and shame 

Now she's trapped me 

by her illogic of it all 

her angry trite sentiment 

and weeping wounded loneliness 

She's really not abroad 
but narrow like her books. 
She's an organ grinder 
on her wooden post 

And her explanations, are beyond 
imagination, they're divagination 
Sis, everyone has their own troubles 
Life's more than just worries and fears 

Why should we just scrape 
through and let bewilderment 
set the measure of all things 
words, words, words. The pen is pest. 

If it's not the destination 
then it is the journey 
And I am wanted on 
this voyage, really I am 

Is it your rage then 
that makes your vision 



blur, or just bad 

Insight. The picture's clear. 

She would claim of men 
that there is only enough 
blood to either think 
or f**k, but not both. 

And abreast of all 
this the other 'men 
they bleed wisdom 
the more the merrier 

But she, well she's birthed 
A lulu, the monster's in 
the mirror, from you to us 
She babbles and mocks 

Atta girl, smash the glass 
Would you believe it? 
In her measure of things 
Everything is below the belt.